


Backhanded

by codewc (orphan_account)



Category: Gorillaz
Genre: Established Relationship, Kink Negotiation, M/M, Masochism, idk what to tag this
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-19
Updated: 2017-08-19
Packaged: 2018-12-17 12:26:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11851548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/codewc
Summary: Russel realizes what Murdoc wants, and he's...not happy.





	Backhanded

Stuart fiddles with his fingers to ease his nervousness. He avoids eye contact with Russel, his sneakers squeaking as he rocks them on the kitchen’s tile floor. Something is up, that’s painfully obvious. But Russel is waiting for Stuart to admit it, scrolling through his phone to extend his patience. They've been alone in the kitchen for most of the morning and although they don't often talk, today’s silence has felt quite... tense.

 

Stuart takes a deep breath, laces his fingers and sighs. “Russ, can we talk?”

 

Russel lifts his eyes from his phone. His relief hidden from his face. “Of course. Shoot.”

 

Stuart rests a hand on his bouncing knee, trying to calm it. “It's…”

 

His mouth is tight and his lips are drawn flat. He battles with his words, but doesn’t hesitate for long. When they finally spill from his mouth, Stuart’s physical relief is visible, his shoulders sagging and his chest deflating as he says the words.

 

“It's about you... and Murdoc. And your... relationship?”

 

“....okay” Russel's phone beeps as he shuts it off, disturbing the uncomfortable atmosphere, “What about it?”

 

Russel knows that this conversation was inevitable. When Murdoc and Russel had announced their relationship to the rest of the band, it was... unexpected, to say the least. He knows that they have plenty of questions, and he's ready to answer them. At least he thinks he is.

 

They didn't ask them right away, and whenever he and Murdoc are affectionate in front of them he can tell it catches them off-guard. It isn't commonplace, not yet. Russel wants to get there, though, wants his relationship with Murdoc to be out in the open. For it to be normal.

 

“Fuck ‘em” Murdoc would say, nuzzling his head against Russel's neck. “I don't care if they're “confused”; I love you and that's that.”

 

And while Russel appreciates the sentiment, when he sees Stuart nervously try manoeuvre around the topic, he can't help but want to accommodate.

 

So Russel loosens his posture, leans in to listen to what Stuart has to say. It relaxes Stuart.

 

“See, Russ, I uh... I can accept that you two are together, an’ all that. I-I’m glad that you're happy – that you're both happy. Together. It's a wonderful thing.”

 

Russel smiles, albeit weakly. “Thanks, ‘D.”

 

Stuart nods, satisfied that he’s gotten that point across, but then he begins to wring his hands again. His eyes are on the table top.

 

“It’s jus’ that... I'm worried about... listen, we're all adults here so I'll just come out an’ say it right; I'm worried about what you two do in the bedroom, so to speak”

 

That's a surprise.

 

Russel is taken aback. He leans away, his eyes narrowing at Stuart, an expression of disgust on his face. “What!?”

 

Russel was expecting questions concerning his and Murdoc’s relationship, maybe “how did you get together” or “why?” but not an immediate probing into their sex life. Stuart really is feeling brave today.

 

Stuart brings his hands up in defense. “Sorry! I'm sorry! I didn't-”

 

“That's um..? 2D, I'm sorry man but that's a little inappropriate. “

 

Stuart sighs heavily. He speaks with his hands. “I know, I know, it's just - you gotta understand this is _Murdoc_ we're talking about. He can be bit... _intense_ , you know? And I’m worried that he's making you... do things... that you might not want to... but it's not like I don't trust you to take care of yourself I just mean that well - see, Noodle pointed out your hickey the other day, so I thought that maybe --”

 

“Okay, okay, I get it.” Russel raises his hand, bringing Stuart to a stop. Russel closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose. He takes a long moment to think about what to do next. If Russel wants to ease the tension, he's gonna have to hear Stuart out. He sighs.

 

“Alright.” Russel drags his hand down his face, “I guess I can understand why you'd be concerned.” Russel shifts in his seat, places his phone down and rests his crossed arms on the table.

 

 _This is Murdoc we’re talking about_ , he recalls Stuart say. _That is kinda fair_...

 

“What do you want to ask exactly?”

 

Now Stuart is the one surprised by Russel’s sudden recovery, but he doesn't comment on it. He instead shifts in his seat too, and clenches his hands. He rubs his thumb over his knuckles, trying to choose his words carefully.

 

Stuart leans forward and whispers despite them being alone in the kitchen. He maintains eye contact with Russel as he speaks and his eyebrows are knitted with worry.

 

“Does he ever... does Murdoc... hurt you?”

 

Russel can only stare at Stuart for a long moment, not quite making the connection. Finally, he shakes his head, slowly. “No? Why would you think…”

 

Stuart's face turns red with frustration. “I mean in bed, Russ. Does he hurt you? Like, we all know that he's into BDSM an’ I'm worried that he's pushed you into something like that – that you’re in over your head – I’m not trying to babysit you or whatever. I just wanna make one hundred percent absolute sure that Murdoc ain't rushing you into anything, or stuff you don't want is all.”

 

“Listen Stu... everything's fine. I'm not-” Russel takes in a deep breath and lets it out again.

 

“Murdoc’s always respectful of my limits. He doesn't want to hurt me. If anything-”

 

Russel stops.

 

Stuart gives him an odd look.

 

“If anything?”

 

“If anything...” Russel continues, “I'd say he errs on the side of caution. But we're both adults. If anything was wrong, we'd talk about it. Okay?”

 

Stuart doesn't seem convinced, but he also doesn't seem to want to put up fight. He shrugs his shoulders. “Okay.”

 

“Now can we not talk about this anymore? I know you're worried but this is our private business and I'd rather not talk about it with anyone that's not, well, Murdoc.” Russel feels a smidge guilty for ragging on Stuart like this. He doesn't want to talk down to Stuart like he's some sort of child. Russel knows how much it upsets him. But Stuart seems okay, nodding along.

 

“Alright. Thanks for telling me. I'm a bit less worried now.” Stuart finishes and gets up from his seat.

 

“See you later, yeah?”

 

“Sure.”

 

Stuart swans out of the room with a vague wave over his shoulder. Russel stares after him, holding in another sigh. He's partly happy with how that turned out. Not that he’s going to mention it to Murdoc, though.

 

Besides, Russel has something else to worry about.

 

 _If anything,_ Russel had almost said, _I think Murdoc wants me to hurt *him*._ And in almost saying it, he realizes that he has known this for a while. He just hadn't wanted to think that the hundred small things he'd noticed might add up to a pattern.

 

His stomach twists uneasily. Little things come back to him that he had pushed aside or dismissed that now together look less casual than he wants them to be. Like something deliberate.

 

The way his heart sinks in his chest at the thought is anything but good. He feels like he’d made a mistake that should have been fixed long ago. Russel looks down at his phone. He picks it up cautiously, turns it on and starts typing. He needs to talk to Murdoc. ASAP.

 

* * *

 

 

Russel is well aware that this was a thing people did. Liked even. That there were people who like being... hurt. It isn’t something he ever encountered first hand, though, and he’ll admit he has an uneducated opinion of it. Most of what he learned about it was through, well, Murdoc.

 

Long before their relationship, Murdoc had hired a dominatrix when his interest in BDSM began. Their business ended rather abruptly, only a few weeks later she told Russel and Stuart that she would no longer be in Murdoc’s service. Russel had guessed at the time that it must have been because Murdoc was too hard to work with, but Murdoc would later tell him that “I’m just not into that stuff anymore, mate.” A lie Russel could now recognize.

 

Russel hadn’t really understood BDSM conceptually, not without some part of him assuming it resulted from some form of trauma, or... self-punishment. And when it came to Murdoc... that couldn’t be ruled out, could it?

 

Murdoc had been reckless with his safety before. He had understated his pain, and in the moments he’s vulnerable with Russel, he admits that he values very little of himself, and that he carries a deep, ingrained self-loathing that he tries to keep hidden. And then it hits Russel. When Murdoc’s vulnerable... does... does he-

 

Russel remembers – _Murdoc’s body tensing, his back arched, the sound he made was almost indescribable. It was loud and sharp. Both moan and cry. Russel could feel Murdoc’s pulse beating in his neck and it wasn’t exactly pleasure, but_ ….

 

Russel had meant to bring it up, to ask, but he never quite managed to find the right words, and there was always something in the way, some reason not to say anything. And underneath that was fear, Russel thinks, of what Murdoc might say.

The excuses were always something along the lines of _he has to be enjoying himself, right?_ But how could Russel know for sure if he didn’t ask? Would Murdoc really answer though? He never wanted to talk about his dominatrix - hell, they hardly talked about Murdoc’s venture into BDSM even when their sexual relationship first began beyond acknowledging that it did in fact happen. Or was this just something Russel tells himself so he can carry on pretending like everything’s fine while Murdoc lets Russel hurt him - _no_ , while Russel hurts Murdoc.

Does Murdoc know Russel feels this way? Does Murdoc know that Russel can’t possibly want to hurt him? That it isn’t on purpose – that Russel isn’t trying to use sex to punish Murdoc. Does he know?

Does he?

 

* * *

 

In his own time, Russel does some minimal research. He looks up phrases like _masochism_ , and _BDSM_ , and while most results make him wince, he comes across a few, helpful websites. All the advice he finds seems to agree on a few core things.

 _Be honest and open in discussion of your desires_. That seemed like a tall order when it came to Murdoc.

 _Before doing anything, discuss your kinks thoroughly with your partner._ He’d already blown that one. He becomes more and more regretful of glancing over Murdoc’s dominatrix. _Maybe if I had talked to her, just once_ , Russel thinks.

 _Establish a safe word_. He had a feeling that if he even brought the idea up Murdoc would just laugh, and only half at him.

From what Russel can understand after some brief reading is that BDSM _is_ about pleasure despite its nature, and that if Murdoc wasn’t feeling that, then it was anything but good. One thing was clear, at least. They needed to talk about this if they were going to continue.

 _If,_ Russel thinks, feeling cold.

 

* * *

 

 

When Russel goes up to Murdoc’s room, it’s with an uncomfortable tightness in his chest. He hesitates before knocking, thinking for a brief moment of aborting the mission to go back and think over his plan again, but that was just the nerves talking, Russel gathers himself. Leaving Murdoc in the dark about this while he goes off to sort out his own feelings would be unfair, Russel concedes.

The doors swings open and there's Murdoc, smiling brightly, unmistakably happy to see Russel. “Hey there, good lookin’,” Murdoc says, leaning against the doorframe, and Russel smiles almost in spite of himself.

“Hey,” he says, “sorry I'm late.”

“S’fine,” Murdoc says, shrugging a shoulder and steps back. “Come on in.”

Once Russel is inside, Murdoc takes his hand and kisses it. “Stop that!” Russel says, laughing nervously. “I don't know what you mean...” Murdoc breathes lightly on Russel’s knuckles and moves closer to him. He keeps his hooded eyes on Russel and his smirk is extremely kissable. His arms are wrapped around Russel's waist...

And the words pop into his head. _If anything, I think Murdoc wants me to hurt him._

Russel freezes, and Murdoc feels it. He pauses, the expression in his eyes flicker for a moment. “Something wrong?”

 

“No” Russel answers too quickly, and then wishes he hadn’t. Murdoc narrows his eyes up at Russel. He adds, “I’m just...tired. Not in the mood.”

 

Murdoc’s expression flickers again, but his face settles on an easy smile. “Is that all?”

 

“I mean, can we just,” Russel hesitates, then feels his face flush, “can we just... be close?”

 

Murdoc’s eyebrow arches. “So... you wanna cuddle?” Murdoc’s tone almost makes Russel wince. Murdoc wraps his fingers around Russel’s wrist and pulls him to his couch. He tugs Russel down with him, releasing his hand to only slide his arms around Russel’s waist, drawing him in close. “C’mon love, relax.”

 

Murdoc’s fingers trail down Russel’s chest, a light touch that he can feel through his clothing. Russel holds his breath for a moment and lets it out carefully, some of his tension leaking away. He hadn’t been lying – it was nice, just to enjoy this kind of closeness. He could almost tell himself that maybe he’d been worrying for nothing.

 

Russel closes his eyes and turns his head to smell Murdoc’s shampoo, a faint citrus and something else. Whatever it is, it smells heavenly. It’s very odd, but knowing that Murdoc has been more attentive of his hygiene because of Russel’s input encourages Russel to talk with Murdoc about this, if only slightly.

 

“Okay. That’s enough.” Murdoc says, his tone faintly amused. “What is it?”

 

Russel starts a little, and is then mad at himself for the guilty reaction. “What do you mean?” Russel asks carefully, fully aware that Murdoc can read the lie. Murdoc is clearly in a good mood, and Russel doesn’t want to spoil it. This is such bad timing. But maybe, Russel argues to himself, that would help

 

“Russ, you've been on your tiptoes since you got here. Just spit it out.”

 

 _Just ask,_ Russel urges himself. _What's the worst that could happen?_ That's a dangerous question, so he pushes it aside. They had to talk about. It's better to do it sooner than later.

 

“Do you... want me to hurt you?” Russel asks, finally, trying to make his tone as calm as possible. But with the way Murdoc pulls back and sits up, it clearly didn't work. Russel can't read Murdoc’s expression.

 

“Why do you ask?”

 

Russel shifts, if only to be closer to Murdoc. That had comforted Murdoc in the past. “I've noticed that sometimes when... when I push harder than usual you react but I… I can't tell if you're enjoying it or not, and I’m afraid you're… “

 

Russel sighs. “I'm afraid you're letting me hurt you without me knowing it.”

 

Murdoc doesn't react right away. His mouth twitches, as though he's holding back a condescending smile or a laugh and it twists Russel’s stomach.

 

“Maybe I do.” Murdoc shrugs, faking a cool demeanor. “So what? It's not like my perversion is anything new.”

 

“Murdoc” Russel starts, lifts his hand to rest it on Murdoc’s arm, “I don't… I don't think you're perverted. I'm not judging you for what you want, I just want to make sure that you're safe. That we-”

 

Murdoc scoffs. His chuckle is dry, and it makes Russel gulp. “You want me to be _safe_ while _hurting_ me? Because that's what I “want” – for you to hurt me. That's what gets me off. That's what I am.”

 

“Who,” Russel corrects, “who you are. And like I said, I don't and won't judge for what your fetishes. I don't understand them, entirely, sure, but I still want to... can I at least ask questions?”

 

“Go wild.” Murdoc replies, crossing his arms. Russel had already lost him, but he's going to go forward regardless.

 

“Have you let me hurt you? Without saying anything? When we have sex, have you let me do things you knew would hurt you?”

 

Murdoc smiles crookedly, and rolls his eyes. “See that – that's the reaction I was afraid of. You're so appalled. Scandalized.”

 

Russel closes his eyes. He has to keep his cool. “I'm serious, Murdoc. I want to know if-”

 

“You don't have to be worried about me. Like some bloody mother hen. I'm perfectly fine. A few bruises during sex doesn't bother me.”

 

And there it is. Russel had hurt Murdoc. He had been an idiot. Completely oblivious. But that isn't right, either, because clearly Russel had known, deep down, what was going on. He just couldn't own up to it then.

 

Murdoc scoffed again. “Don't tell me you're gonna get all sorry on me now.”

 

“How can I not? Murdoc, you need to tell me this. I can't…”

 

“So is that it, eh? That you're so disturbed that I made you do such a thing. Disturbed by me.”

 

“No,” Russel says quickly. But it wasn't true. There is a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach, that Murdoc must have known how Russel would feel. But he kept going, anyway, even though he should have said something. But then Russel should have noticed too, and should have said something and now there's a sense of hurt, too, because here Russel thought they were doing so well…

 

“That’s not what I mean, Murdoc, you know that. Come here, please,” Russel voice is becoming strained despite his efforts to maintain his composure.

 

“O-o-oh so we wanna talk now hmm? You want me to bare my feelings for you? Spill all of my dirty secrets? Is that it?” Murdoc's voice slides into something slick and unpleasant, and it only gets worse for Russel.

 

“Yes, I want you to talk to me. I wish you had talked to me before-”

 

“Oh yeah because I'm just sooo good at the whole honesty thing, huh?” Murdoc gets up from his seat, standing over Russel. “Yeah, I want you to hurt me. Big ol’ rockstar Murdoc Niccals wants to be slapped silly until he's bleeding all over. Sexy, right? Yes, I let you go a little far when we fuck. So what? I'm not weak. I'm not fragile. I can _take_ it. But I guess my wanting it is too _gross_ for you, right? Posh boy Russel Hobbs is too proper to rough up poor old weak Murdoc Niccals, is that it?”

 

Russel gets up now too. He’s reaching his boiling point, his fists clenched. “I don't think that you're weak,” Russel says, cooly, “I don't want you to think what you want during sex is wrong, or gross, or disturbing. I just want to _know_ about it. I want you to be _safe_. And honestly, Murdoc, you cannot look me in the eye and tell me this doesn't have anything to do with you punishing yourself!”

 

Russel's voice breaks into a shout, and it makes Murdoc jump. The room falls quiet. Panic crosses Russel's face. “Murdoc, I'm sorry. I didn't-”

 

“Get out.” Murdoc says quietly. It strikes Russel in the chest. “Get out, Russel. I mean it.”

 

“Fine...” Russel says, defeated. “If that's what you want.” He turns and heads for the door.

 

* * *

 

 

Welp. That was a disaster.

 

Over time, Russel became angry over what happened, but it didn't last long.  He vented his frustration into his drum kit, and then cooled off with a bottle of water. He now realizes that maybe he isn't mad at what happened, or even Murdoc, but rather himself. Russel replays the conversation in his head and tries to spot places he could have handled better, but the scenario would always end with Murdoc demanding Russel leave.

 

How many times had Murdoc told Russel to leave when they argue? None come to mind. Whenever they fight it was always Murdoc who ran off. It makes Russel's heart clench when he remembers Murdoc’s soft voice telling him to _get out_. It occurs to Russel that Murdoc's voice had never been what would be considered _soft_ before.

 

Russel keeps telling himself that Murdoc’s reaction wasn't unwarranted, that he's allowed to be upset at whatever Russel had said. Russel thinks he should have researched this more. That he should have thought of a better time than right away. That he shouldn't have let himself lose his cool like that.

 

How long before Murdoc would let Russel see him again? He doesn't want to rush Murdoc, but he wants to apologise as soon as possible, too. A fear that Murdoc wouldn't ever want to speak to him again crept up on Russel in his sleep.

 

He didn't expect to get a response as soon as the next morning. Murdoc had texted him around six; _sorry for being a knob. Come around later, yeah? xxx_

 

* * *

 

 

Russel knocks cautiously on the door this time. Murdoc calls him to come in, and Russel does so, with careful, small movements. Russel stands a fair distance from the couch Murdoc is sitting on, his knees drawn up to his chest and a cigarette in his mouth.

 

“Hey...” Murdoc greets first.

 

“Hey.”

 

Murdoc lifts his head and looks over Russel, which makes Russel feel slightly self conscious. He gestures to the seat next to him, inviting Russel to join him.

 

When Russel sits next to Murdoc, he says, “Before we continue I wanted to say that I am sorry that I upset you.”

 

Murdoc looks surprised. “ _You're_ apologising to _me_?”

 

Russel turns to Murdoc, his voice genuine. “Well, yeah. There was a better way to have that conversation and I couldn't find it.”

 

Murdoc shakes his head in disbelief. “You... you're incredible, you know that?”

 

Russel cocks a brow. “What?”

 

Murdoc chuckles as he reaches down for another cigarette and lights it. “I invited you over here to apologize for being a dick earlier. But I guess you gotta one up me anyway, huh?”

 

He's just joking, Russel knows, but his brow furrows and he frowns. “Oh, Murdoc, I wasn't-” Murdoc turns to Russel, his expression is focused. It shuts Russel up.

 

“Listen, Russel, I've been thinking long and hard on this and I... it wasn't right how I acted. I should have listened to you and been honest and... and I'm not good at that, obviously.”

 

“You're doing good so far,” Russel says quietly, and it brings a brief smile to Murdoc's face. “Thanks.”

 

Murdoc takes a long drag, he takes a moment to think and Russel sits back, anticipating what Murdoc is going to say. Murdoc watches the cloud of smoke he blows float up to the ceiling and he shifts comfortably into his seat before he continues.

 

“When I was in prison, I realized how lonely I really was. Lonelier than on Plastic Beach.” Murdoc turns to see Russel’s reaction, receives none, and turns away.

 

“I think... I think I became a bit touch-starved, if that's the right phrase... And I was thinking about all the stuff I did, all the shitty stuff I did to you lot. To the band.”

 

Russel bites the inside of his cheek. He can tell where this is going, and it doesn't sit well with him.

 

“And it all just fed into this desire I have – to be punished, like being hurt is gratifying somehow. The pain started to feel good. Christ, that's morbid. And don't lie. I can see it on your face.”

 

Russel doesn't say anything and takes Murdoc’s hand. He doesn't bring up Murdoc’s father or his brother. He wants Murdoc to reach that conclusion for himself. It dawns on Russel, right then, that maybe this is the first actual time Murdoc has tried to sort out his thoughts about his masochism. That all of the little things have started coming together for him, too. That he is just starting to confront his feelings. And though it is very, very different for Russel, he can sympathize with how upsetting it could be. So he squeezes Murdoc's hand, encouraging him to continue. Murdoc takes another drag.

 

“But I think I went too far. Like it wasn't just about sex anymore. When I hired that dominatrix… Madame Flesch, you know her.” Russel nods solemnly. _I've been thinking about her a lot lately,_ Russel doesn't say. Murdoc hesitates, purses his lips in thought. His shoulders sag as he sighs.

 

“There was this... incident, where I didn't use this safe word, to let her know that I was in pain, the bad kind, and I ended up getting injured. She quit after that. I managed to make a dominatrix quit on me. Humiliating, isn't it?”

 

Murdoc laughs dryly, trying to find the humor in it, but Russel just stares back at him, wide-eyed in shock. “Why didn't you tell me?” Russel says, his voice sharp. Murdoc furrows his brow at his cigarette, frowning to himself.

 

“O’course I didn't tell you. I didn't want you to be horrified of me, the way you probably are now.”

 

“I'm not,” Russel interjects, but Murdoc continues. “I didn't tell you when it hurt because sometimes it did actually feel good but sometimes I felt like I deserved it somewhere in the heat of the moment. Sometimes it wasn't just about the sex...” Murdoc’s hands shake. Guilt sloshes around in Russel's stomach but he pushes it down, tells himself this is Murdoc's moment.

 

“So yeah, you're right, Russel. About it all. I just…” Murdoc grunts as he crushes his cigarette in the ashtray on the coffee table. “Aw, hell. I'm not making any sense, am I? I'm just making a bleedin’ fool of myself.”

 

Russel shakes his head. “No, you're not. I understand it better now, even if it’s just a little. I'm happy you told me.”

 

“Don't patronize me, Russ.” Murdoc says defensively, but he moves to rest his body against Russel's side. The tension in the room melts away and with Murdoc’s confession comes intimacy, and Russel is grateful for it. And he wasn't lying – he’s incredibly happy about Murdoc being so vulnerable with him just now. It eases his stress. It encourages him. Russel removes his hand from Murdoc’s and wraps his arm around Murdoc’s shoulder. “Christ, that was a lot.” Murdoc groans. Russel smirks. After a moment, Russel moves the conversation forward.

 

“Okay, so, sometimes it feels good?”

 

Murdoc nods.

 

“Alright, okay... so we'll just find what feels good and work from there. Compromise.”

 

Murdoc rolls his eyes and rests his head on Russel's shoulder. “I still don't know how we're gonna pull that off, but okay.”

 

“How many times do I have to say that I don't mind your kinks, Murdoc? I just… it upsets me not knowing that I'm hurting you. And that sometimes it doesn't feel good. I'm sorry” Russel sighs heavily. “You know that I...” he looks down at Murdoc, “you know that I don't _want_ to hurt you, right?”

 

“Christ, Russel, of course I do.” Murdoc says quickly, and wraps his arms around Russel’s waist. “You're the most gentle man I've ever met. You're so soft it's maddening. I'm sorry that I... that _I_ upset _you_ like that.”

 

“Thank you. I'm glad that you don't think I'd want to harm you,” Russel says, a comforting smile graces his face. “I just want you to feel good.” Murdoc rests his head on Russel’s chest. “Ditto.”

 

“So, we'll just figure something out.” As Russel says that, he tries to think of an idea, but Murdoc hugs him as a distraction. “Yeah, yeah, we'll do that later. I'll teach you all about that stuff. But right now? Right now I'm exhausted and…”

 

Murdoc looks up at Russel. “...and I just wanna cuddle.”

 

It's obnoxious how that makes Russel grin. He caves in immediately. “Sounds good.”

 

This is just the first step into this issue, Russel can acknowledge that. They will have to elaborate later, find common ground and it will take so much more time and a lot out of both of them, but they have to do it.

 

They're getting there, Russel thinks. They're going to be fine.

 

**Author's Note:**

> my gay gorillaz blog is @russdoc on tumblr


End file.
